


Different Now

by AryaGEN



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Lemon, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3489425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaGEN/pseuds/AryaGEN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz/Skye and Fitz/Simmons set in and after AoS 2x11, warning (reasonably graphic) smut and spoilers for AoS 2x12 in the second chapter. Contains themes/AU scenes from 2x22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_\---_

_After you change no one else will understand. They’ll be afraid – change is terrifying._

\---

 

“What the hell happened?” May asked, clearly alarmed and anxious.

 

Her heart hammered hard against her chest, threatening to burst through her ribcage, the relentless pounding of each beat almost deafened her as she stared at May. Exposed and helpless, she found herself gripped in panic and terror as her eyes flicked between the faces on the other side of the glass; the faces of those she had come to embrace as her family. She felt faint, her breaths came in shallow gasps and her stomach lurched as Fitz’s words raced through her mind over and over, _there’s nothing wrong with the data in my head Skye…_ She couldn’t stop remembering his expression of fear and revulsion as he told her what she had known for some time now, but was too terrible to think – that she was _Inhuman._ There was something very wrong with her.

 

“Skye?” May’s voice broke her from her thoughts, it was not the harsh and strong voice she was used to hearing but softer, laced with concern.

 

Skye became acutely aware of the dull pain in her hand, warm blood oozed between the gaps of her fingers before dripping onto the floor – she had unwittingly screwed them into a fist, forgetting the pieces of glass she was holding. She tried to speak but couldn’t, unable to think of anything to say. After all what could she say? That Trip’s death was her fault, that she could have stopped Raina if she’d wanted to. She turned to Simmons instinctively, searching for support from her like she had so many times before – but Simmons’ face was unreadable; the warmth that usually radiated from her gone. Skye felt her knees tremble under the weight of Simmons’ sharp gaze – she needed to get out of the quarantine bay, to run as far as she could away from everybody and to scream until she lost her voice.

 

Everything inside her was wrong, she felt misaligned somehow. She was at once both herself and something else, something new, something _inhuman._ Sweat dripped down her forehead and she swayed slightly, desperate to be away from the penetrating, expectant glances of her teammates; desperate to be anywhere but there. She swallowed, finding her throat dry and sore as she did so, and attempted to again to come up with a lie. In the end she said the only word she could think of.

 

“Fitz.” She stammered out, knowing that he would explain to them what he had explained to her, that there was something wrong with her – that she had caused the destruction of the temple. She closed her eyes and braced for their answers, childishly wishing that they would somehow disappear because she couldn’t see them anymore.

 

To her surprise the next person to speak wasn’t Skye or Simmons, but Fitz – out of breath and bursting through the door, speaking quicker than she’d ever heard him speak since his hypoxia. She seized up with dread, trying to prepare herself for what it would look like to see her family turn against her, practically praying that they’d be sympathetic – but after Fitz’s reaction earlier and overhearing Simmons advising Coulson that lethal force should not be ruled out in the hunt for Raina, she didn’t hold out much hope. Tears burnt hot in her eyes and yet, when Fitz spoke, his voice was largely even – albeit a little flustered – and he didn’t say what she thought he would.

 

“Fitz was a cluts again.” He announced as he walked into the room clasping a tablet computer, he didn’t look at her. “She’s clearing up the mess. Sorry it was my fault, I knocked over the lamp when I was taking a sample of Skye’s blood with one of those ridiculous hazmat suits on and I don’t know, I guess my coordination still needs work…” He trailed off for a moment before pressing something on the tablet and giving it to Simmons. “But I was anxious to double check the results – her DNA is an exact match to what it was before, she’s clear.”

 

“Thank god.” Simmons exclaimed, clearly relieved, a grin spreading across her face. Skye didn’t know how to react, something was wrong – Fitz hadn’t looked at her since walking into the room; his gaze was fixed warily on Jemma. Nonetheless he had lied for her about the lamp – she found herself thankful that he wasn’t as bad at lying as Simmons.

 

“I’m going to call Coulson – he could use the good news.” May said, also evidently relieved, before turning to her and adding, “You alright?”

 

“Yeah.” She answered, breathless, her lungs aching. As May turned to leave Fitz finally looked at Skye; he looked just as panicked as she was, clearly hoping his lie wouldn’t be uncovered. As Simmons poured over the data on the tablet he spoke again.

 

“Erm, Skye is your bunk made?” Fitz asked, the question caught her off guard. Her mind was running a hundred a miles a minute – everything was happening so fast she barely had time to process what exactly was being said.

 

“Erm no, no it’s a mess.” She answered, stumbling over her words and trying to catch her breath. She had no idea whether her bunk was made or what Fitz was doing but instinctively she wanted to trust him – he could have said to them what he said to her. Even still, she was terrified; she wanted to speak to him alone to understand _why_ he covered for her.

 

Fitz turned to Simmons, distracting her from the results on the tablet, “Maybe you could get her some clean sheets – she should probably sleep.” He said, making it clear he expected her to agree. Skye saw straight through him though, he was clearly trying to get Simmons to leave.

 

“Yes, you deserve a good night’s rest.” Simmons said, still smiling and unaware of the great burden of unspoken words that hung between Fitz and Skye.

 

Noticing he’d come across a little harsh Fitz added in his usual more awkward self, “I mean, I would do it but last time I was in there, there was lots of ladies things and, she’s a slob.” Under any other circumstances Skye might have frowned at him for saying that but she almost laughed – whatever else Fitz thought of her having seen whatever it is she had done to the lamp and knowing she caused the destruction in the temple, he still thought of her as _her._ Smiling, he picked up some gauze and an antiseptic bottle and walked to the door of the quarantine chamber, “I’ll help bandage her hands – it was my fault anyway.”

 

Simmons nodded and left the lab, Fitz held his smile until the door shut behind her and then dropped it, pressing a button on the wall and walking in to kneel down next to Skye.

 

“What did you just do?” Skye said feeling exhausted, anxious and sacred all at once. She sat down on the bed to take the pressure of her trembling legs.

 

“Switched your blood results with your old samples.” Fitz said, pouring antiseptic onto the gauze. “Give me your hand.”

 

“The new samples are different?” Skye said, her heart thumping against her chest once again. She felt sick and light headed, as though everything was spinning. He started carefully cleaning the cuts from the broken glass – using one of his hands to steady hers and the other to clean. She had been in quarantine so long that she practically jumped at the feel of his touch; warmth ran through her and somehow everything felt just a little better. She barely flinched when he pressed the gauze down though the antiseptic stung painfully.

 

“Drastically.” He answered, and her fear returned. It had been foolish to think that her samples would be the same, she knew she caused the destruction in the temple – she _felt_ different, but for the briefest of moments she had dared to hope she would just be normal.  “But until everyone around here calms down, I don’t think we should tell anybody – what with the way Simmons is acting, for now we should just keep it between us, keep you safe until we figure it out, okay?”

 

He held onto her hand and stared at her, his eyes shone with caring. She knew what it meant for him to keep a secret from Simmons; even with how strained their friendship had been since Jemma’s return from HYDRA. Fitz chose Skye – he knew what she’d done in the temple, he saw what she could do in the lab and yet he still chose to fight for her, to protect her. She remembered the words of her father, his warning that after the change nobody would understand; that he would be waiting for her. Before she knew what she was doing she flung her arms around Fitz, collapsing to the floor with him and burying her head in the shoulder of the man who had proved her father wrong. Tears ran freely from her eyes onto his jumper and she felt his arms close around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

 

“It’s okay.” He said reassuringly into her ear, holding her.

 

“This is all my fault.” She said, barely able to stop herself from breaking down and sobbing. He gripped her tighter.

 

“No.” Fitz said fiercely.

 

“I could have stopped her, I let this happen and I’m so sorry…” She trailed off, her voice quivering and body shaking. She felt weak, scared – she expected him to push her away, to accuse her of getting Trip killed, but he didn’t.

 

“No, it’s okay.” He said softly, his hands running up and down her back gently.

 

“Everything’s my fault.” Her was voice little more than a whisper. “There’s something very wrong with me.”

 

“No, you’re just different now.” He said, holding her like he would never let her go, “You’re just different now and there’s nothing wrong with that… There’s nothing wrong with that…”

 

She melted into the embrace, the strength sapped from her limbs. They leant together for what felt like hours as she found comfort in him – she wondered if this is how he felt when he first woke up after drowning: as though he was _different._ She had tried to spend time with him in the weeks after but she couldn’t – she wasn’t strong enough to watch him struggle. But that frail, mumbling Fitz that shuffled about the lab alone was gone, replaced by the incredible man that sat before her – a man that saw her for _who_ she was, not _what_ she was, that didn’t care about what she _could_ do but what she _would_ do. She knew that he would fight for her with everything he had, he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and she found herself pulling closer to him, wanting to be nearer.

 

Something had changed between them, something had changed with her. They were both different people from the ones that had first stepped foot on the BUS a little more than a year earlier, they had changed. As the stone had wrapped around in her the Temple she felt every part of her being rearrange, she suffered the agony of being torn apart and reassembled on a molecular level and waking up in a body that no longer felt like hers. As Fitz muttered that everything was fine and that there was nothing wrong with her being different she felt a burning desire begin to build in her – to run, jump, shout, sing, kiss… It was as though she was experiencing everything again for the first time. She felt an almost animalistic urge and a heat began to build within her core as she breathed in Fitz’s scent, running a hand through his unkempt hair. This was more than lust. She couldn’t say when it had happened, just that it had; she had developed feelings for Fitz.

 

She kissed him.

 

Her lips pressed against his and she revelled in his taste. For a moment he was motionless, in shock, but as she began to pull her face back he followed her, their mouths ghosting over each other’s before their lips crashed together passionately, parting just enough for her tongue to push against his. She sighed breathily when their tongues touched, leaning forward and mounting his waist, straddling him. She needed this; she needed to feel a meaningful connection – it was as though she had never kissed anyone before, never been kissed. She pushed him backwards against the medical stand he was sat beside and guided his hands to her hips, drawing her closer. An at once familiar but also entirely new feeling ran though her body as a warm sensation began to build between her legs; in a bid to appease it she rocked her hips forward slightly but it only made it worse. Her uncut hand dropped impatiently to unbuckle Fitz’s belt but he caught her wrist before she could and broke their kiss.

 

“We can’t.” He said, she made no effort to hide her disappointment and frowned at him.

 

“Why shouldn’t we?” She asked him, tilting her head and running a hand through his hair. She leaned forward so that the front of her jeans pressed against him, feeling a bulge under his zipper. He groaned and almost lent in to kiss her again but pulled away at the last minute.

 

“We can’t.” He said again, swallowing in his throat reluctantly. She could see he wanted this, as much as she did but something was wrong, despite everything she began to fear that he was afraid of the new her.

 

“Simmons?” She asked, as the only other explanation she could think of for him not wanting to keep going. She squirmed uncomfortably at the growing dampness between her legs.

 

“No.” He answered truthfully, his eyes meeting hers with a gaze that pierced straight through her. She knew that he still had feelings for her, he probably always would, but that he was also trying to move on – that wasn’t the reason.

 

“What then?” She asked, fear rising within her easing herself back off his lap and sitting down in front of him. After he said nothing she placed a hand on his knee, “Fitz?”

 

He winced slightly as though he couldn’t find the right words – but this wasn’t the hypoxia, even before Fitz had never been good at talking about this kind of thing, eventually he mumbled out, “This has to… erm, matter.”

 

She stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight before her. She had been worried he wouldn’t go through with it because of what he thought about her, it didn’t occur to her that he was worried about what she thought of him. He was worried that it could’ve been anyone sitting there on the floor; that Skye didn’t want to have sex with him personally _._ But she did, she had always thought he was cute, ever since she first saw him on the BUS, but this was about more than that. Leo Fitz was the most caring and loyal man she’d ever met, he had endless determination but he had given up everything for a woman he loved only to have her not love him back, of course he was afraid that she didn’t really care about _him_.

 

“It does matter.” She told him, squeezing his leg lightly, “Of course it matters.” She brought her head forward towards his; they were close enough that they could almost kiss again. She had always felt strongly towards Fitz but this was something new, something quite scary – something she hadn’t felt since before HYDRA ruined everything. “ _You_ are here.”

 

He kissed her.

 

Those words didn’t mean that he just happened to be there and she wanted to have sex, they meant that because _he_ was there, it mattered. He had protected her, comforted her, cared for her – and she cared for him. She deepened his kiss and brought herself back onto his lap, the fire between their legs ignited through their clothes. Their mouths battled against each other in an attempt to touch and taste as much of the other as they could but just as she started to grind her hips forwards against him, desperate to satisfy that burning urge for him amid her thighs, he pulled away from her and looked studiously at her face.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, more impatiently than she meant to.

 

“You’re beautiful.”

 

“And that’s wrong, how?” She teased, earning her a broad grin from him.

 

“It’s not.” He laughed but as she leant in to kiss again he recoiled.

 

“What?” She half asked, half demanded – lightly pushing his chest to show her annoyance at him.

 

“Not here.” Fitz said simply, looking around the lab. She had to admit he was right; there was glass on the floor and windows on all sides.

 

“Where?” She asked breathlessly.

 

“The BUS?” He suggested and she nodded, rising to her feet immediately and heading to the door of the lab. As she reached it she turned to look at Fitz, who had risen to his feet as well, but he was standing still. She paused for a moment, waiting for him to come over to her.

 

“You’re perfect Skye, different or not.” He said in a low lust-filled voice.

 

She didn’t know what to say so she said the only word she could think of, “Fitz.”

 

They stood at opposite ends of the lab for a few moments, both of them had just declared feelings for the other – neither of them was prepared to call it love, they didn’t know if it was love or simply trust. After Ward Skye was afraid to trust anyone, let alone another man and Fitz didn’t know if he would ever truly get over Simmons, but for now this – whatever this was – was enough, and so it did matter.


	2. Fitz's choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, lemon and spoilers for Agents of Shield 2x12.

 

The walk from the Lab to the BUS seemed to take them a lifetime; Skye could feel her breath catching in her throat as she set an eager pace forcing Fitz into almost a jog to keep up. The corridors blurred past and she barely had time to smile at Mack as he said it was good to see her out of quarantine before she had already left him behind. By the time Fitz passed him, Mack had a decidedly confused expression on his face. For Fitz’s own part, he paid Mack as little heed as Skye had, his eyes were fixed on Skye as she strode ahead of him, watching the way her hips swung and hair bounced with each step, the tight denim of her jeans pulled tight over the curves of her arse. He had always found her attractive and did care deeply for her as a friend, but he had been so caught up in his own failed endeavours with Simmons and she had been caught up with her catastrophic romance with Ward that it was only now he was seeing her in a new light – as though for the first time.

 

All that mattered for them both was getting to the BUS: heads spinning, hearts pounding and minds racing at what awaited them when she got there. A year ago Skye had thought of Fitz as little more than a friend but now he was the only one who understood what it was like to be different – even after his initial freak out he still saw her for who she was. She found herself imagining how hard it must have been for him to have all of his friends look at him like he was no longer the same person; his lie had shielded her from that. Skye was also aware he had risked further divisions in his already complicated relationship with Simmons for her. Turning back to check he was still following her Skye took in his flustered appearance, old-fashioned dress sense and awkward demeanour, realising that although she’d always thought she fell for the bad boy type – first Miles, then Ward – what she had actually been looking for was someone who could see her for who she was. After all, Fitz was about as far away from a typical bad boy as someone could get but something about the way he looked at her, the kindness and empathy that seemed to flow unimpeded from him meant she couldn’t wait to have her hands back in his soft brown hair, to have her mouth against his and to feel him inside her.

 

As they stepped into the main hangar Skye breathed in the fresh, cold air – relishing the taste freedom after so many hours in isolation. She closed her eyes for only a few moments to enjoy it before grabbing Fitz’s hand to drag him along and rushing up the cargo ramp to the BUS. They climbed the stairs almost two at a time – prompting Fitz to stumble more than once – and practically sprinted towards the bunks that’d had been their home before the move to the Playground. Aside from Mack in the garage it was quite rare for people to use the BUS nowadays – outside of for missions anyway – and with him in the main compound the two of them knew they had the place to themselves. When they got to Skye’s old bunk no sooner had she shut the door behind them than she flicked on the CD player next to the bed and started kissing ferociously, with Skye frantically tugging Fitz’s clothes with fumbling hands as Mumford and Sons played in the background.

 

She broke the kiss just long enough to lift off Fitz’s jumper, instantly missing the feel of his lips against hers and the comfort that they brought. She took off her own shirt as he began unbuttoning his - something she had to help him finish because of his trembling hands. Admittedly, she didn’t know if they were shaking from the hypoxia or from excitement – she could hardly keep her own ones steady and settled impatiently on tearing the two sides of his shirt open in one swift movement, popping off the bottom two buttons and prompting Fitz to pull away from her with a disapproving frown. The sudden space between them felt like a gaping chasm even in such a small room and in a desperate bid to close the gap between them she pushed him against the wall, running her hands over his surprisingly well defined chest as he pressed kisses against her neck. She felt somewhat guilty that she had assumed he would have no muscle tone at all; after all, even Fitz had to have gone through basic field training.

 

She lowered her hands from his chest to his waist, deftly unbuckling it and dropping his jeans to his ankles. Fitz pushed her back slightly and awkwardly kicked the jeans into the corner, almost tripping on them as he did so, before he set about removing her own trousers – slipping them past her waist with surprising speed and efficiency. Impatient at the fact they were both still standing, Skye led Fitz to the bunk before pushing him into a seated position and straddling his waist. He groaned as she pressed against him, heat building between them where their bodies met. In retaliation he brought his mouth from her neck back up to meet hers and continued their battle for control of the each other’s mouths; every few moments yielded a switch in victor as their tongues jousted. With little more than their underwear between them Fitz pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her before leaning back so she lie on top of him completely, their bodies locked. She sighed as he ran his hands along her back and moved to unclip her bra, enjoying their passionate embrace.

 

“I can do it,” She muttered breathlessly between kisses as Fitz’s hands struggled to open the clasp, but he shook his head.

 

“Almost…” He said, an air of annoyance in his voice before finally unclipping it, “Got it!”

 

She slipped her arms through the straps and threw the black bra against the wall, feeling her breasts hang freely against her. As if magnetically, Fitz’s hands rose to meet them, cupping them tenderly as he gently stroked the sensitive skin around her fast hardening nipples with his thumb. His efforts earned him a gasp from her as she deepened their kiss, eager to taste as much of the young scientist as she could. Instinctively, she ground her hips against his pelvis, feeling the heat from his hard organ against her own, damp sex. He closed his eyes and his hips bucked upwards involuntarily at the contact, letting out a low, guttural groan and holding her tighter. She felt her lips twitch upwards into a wide grin as she watched the effect she was having on her friend. When he opened his eyes they were wide and lustful, ravenous.

 

He let go of her breasts and pressed one hand against her thigh and the other at the small of her back before effortlessly flipping them over so he was on top. He pulled his lips away from hers and looked down at her, bringing his hands to her face. He smiled at her and said with simple, boyish charm, “You’re beautiful.”

 

She grinned at him, lifting her neck upwards to resume their kiss, loving the slightly prickly feel of his light stubble against her skin. As he brought their heads lower so she could rest against the pillow he rocked his hips forward gently, applying the lightest pressure against her sex, igniting a passion deep inside her. As her face screwed up in growing pleasure she felt different all of a sudden, both powerful and powerless at the same time. Energy seemed to surge from her in waves and it felt as though she was creating ripples in the air – for a glorious moment she was relaxed, serene and utterly at peace, but it was interrupted by a sudden jolt. Everything around them was shaking – the Mumford and Sons playing in the background was distorted and jumped as vibrations ran throughout the hull of the plane.

 

“Skye!” Fitz almost yelled at her over the sounds of smashing cutlery from the on board kitchen.

 

His eyes were wide with fear and concern for her, his hands held her cheeks as he said something she couldn’t hear. Her heart was pounding against her chest as the room shook, the few personal items she owned, including a couple of photos of the ST6 from the early days before HYDRA, fell from her bedside cabinet. The lights flickered and the door flew open as the tremors grew stronger, her breath came in short sharp gasps as clothes fell from the luggage holdall above their heads. She didn’t understand how this was happening, terror seized her, she gripped onto Fitz’s arms so tightly her nails drew blood.

 

“Skye?!” Fitz said again, his voice calmer and quieter. His eyes were locked on hers as everything on the BUS rocked, the metal seemingly creaking under the new pressure. Tears burned in her eyes, feeling powerless to stop the quaking. He brought himself to her, pressing their foreheads together and whispering, “It’s alright… You’ve got this…”

 

“I can’t!” She whimpered in fear but he held onto her, his hands still cupping her cheeks.

 

“You can do this Skye.” He said reassuringly and as she opened her mouth to protest he met it firmly with a strong kiss.

 

The effect was instantaneous, her grip on his arms lightened as she relaxed against him. The shaking around them lightened and subsided, finally stopping altogether. By the time he finally broke the kiss her heart rate had slowed and she looked up at him, suddenly exhausted. Where she expected fear and horror, she found only care from him, “Told you you had it.” He said with an understated grin, wincing as she let go of his arms – her stomach lurched when she saw his blood under her fingernails.

 

“What’s wrong with me Fitz?” She asked, her earlier fears returning in force.

 

“Nothing.” He said, his thumb wiping a tear away from her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong with you Skye.”

 

“I could hurt you.” She half whispered, the pain evident in her voice. She said the only thing that she could think of, “I don’t want _this_.”

 

“We’ll figure this out.” He told her reassuringly before adding as she turned to look away from him, “We’ll get through this… Okay?”

 

She looked at him carefully, tears still streaming from her eyes and sweat dripping from her forehead before tentatively nodding. “Okay, Fitz.” She answered meekly.

 

His lips twitched into a slight smile, before breaking into a grin as his normal fire returned to him, “In the meantime, erm, don’t… don’t get too excited.”

 

She punched him on the shoulder a little harder than she meant to, breaking into laughter in spite of herself. She looked up at him, suddenly aware they were both almost naked and said playfully, “In which case, we should sort this quick.”

 

Fitz blushed and, as though nothing had happened – as though she hadn’t nearly destroyed the BUS with them still on it – pressed a light kiss to her lips and stood up, picking up the broken picture frame of everyone and putting it back on the bedside cabinet. Skye watched him as he pulled his jeans back on, then his shirt, resisting the urge to giggle as he remembered the bottom two buttons were broken. Fitz wouldn’t say it, but she knew he would be _really_ annoyed by that. He struggled to subdue an obvious frown as he pulled his jumper back on before awkwardly passing her back her bra.

 

No sooner had she put it on than Simmons appeared at the open doorway, her face flustered having obviously ran straight there. Skye’s heart froze in fear as the woman she hoped was still her friend’s eyes passed from her to Fitz. Instinctively, Skye drew the quilt covers around herself, feeling thankful Simmons hadn’t walked in a few moments earlier though regretful she had turned up at all. Despite everything that had happened between Fitz and Simmons, Skye noted that Simmons was obviously relieved to see that Fitz had his clothes on.

 

“I came to check on her.” Fitz offered dismissively by way of explanation of his presence in Skye’s bedroom on the BUS before turning his attention fully to Simmons. “What was that?” He asked, playing dumb to the whole situation.

 

“I don’t know.” She looked nervously at him, holding a tablet PC tightly in her hands “None of the readings make any sense; we’re not on or even anywhere remotely near a fault line that could have caused this.”

 

“Let me see.” Fitz said, continuing the charade and looking over the data. Skye had to admit he had an excellent poker face, she hoped her own was even half as convincing.

 

“You’re bleeding.” Simmons said and Fitz froze, obviously wondering how he would explain the blood on his arms. But she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at Skye’s fingernails. Skye cursed in her mind at the fact she had left one of her hands above the quilt.

 

“It’s from the glass.” Skye said, gesturing to the bandage around the hand, thankful that there was indeed a dark red mark visible.

 

“Fitz you really should have cleaned it properly.” Simmons said to him, he was still looking over at the data she’d given him, lost in thought.

 

“It was my fault, I pressed the bandage when the shaking started,” Skye improvised and demonstrated her lie by curling her hand into a fist, lining her bloodied fingernails to the blood marks from the glass, pretending to Simmons that Fitz’s blood was in fact hers. In a bid to get out from Jemma’s scrutiny she added, “I can clean it.”

 

Skye didn’t wait for Simmons’ approval before getting up and walking towards one of the bathrooms on the plane, leaving the door ajar so that she could hear any conversation while she got rid of the blood from her nails.

 

“What do you think?” Skye heard Simmons ask Fitz, she continued, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“Have you ran it against any projects from your time at… away?” Fitz asked, evidently still sore about the whole subject.

 

“You really think this was HYDRA?” Simmons asked him, she didn’t seem convinced.

 

“It could be, erm, retaliation for, for,” Fitz sounded frustrated at his inability to vocalise properly, “for what we did to Whitehall.”

 

“Or the other heads of HYDRA.” Simmons added, there was a pause in which Fitz must have expressed a look that told her he didn’t understand because she continued, “Coulson moved against them, took out four other heads.”

 

Skye walked back into the room having washed the blood away from both hands.

 

“Run the results against projects from HYDRA, even prototypes – see if we can’t find a match.” Fitz said, handing the tablet back to her before adding, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

 

Simmons nodded in appreciation, casting her eyes over to Skye one last time and smiling before heading towards the stairs down to Mack’s garage. After she left, Fitz let out a visible sigh of relief.

 

“What did you do?” Skye asked, for the second time that day.

 

“Bought us some time.” He answered, shooting her a wry smile.

 

 

……

 

 

Lady Sif’s visit had changed everything.

 

 

Skye heard the words of the Kree warrior as she walked through the corridors of the Playground, her bag of things in her hand. She had made up her mind when she woke up from the ICER, she would go and stay in the BUS for the time being, she hoped that Fitz would come with her but she didn’t know if he still would – he had stood up for against the Kree warrior and had even used alien tech to protect her but now that her secret was out he would have to choose between herself and Simmons. She didn’t doubt that Fitz cared for her, but he had known Jemma for so long, and there was so much between them – she didn’t want to let herself hope that he would _openly_ choose herself instead.

 

“Skye is my friend, she’s different.” She had heard Simmons say to Fitz, giving her a brief moment of hope as she rounded the corner, seeing broken glass strewn across the corridor – unsure if she had caused the damage or the fight against the Kree had.

 

“Oh yeah like I was your friend and then I changed, how did you handle that?” Fitz shot back, clearly agitated.

 

“Point is secrets don’t help any of us, Skye should have just come clean.” Mack’s deep voice sounded as Skye took in the scene in front of her. Everyone was gathered there except May and Coulson. She reminded herself why Trip wasn’t there.

 

“What and risk being locked up, studied and who knows what else? No I wouldn’t let her.” Fitz said, rounding on Mack. Skye knew the two of them had a close friendship before the events at the alien city. Ever since Mack had acted differently, more aggressively, and she noticed that Fitz had become more wary of him. She remembered Coulson had told her Fitz almost had to kill him to protect them.

 

“Oh you wouldn’t let her?” Simmons snapped, aggressively.

 

“We could have handled her in a way that kept everyone safe.” Mack chipped in, evidently trying to cool the tension between Simmons and Fitz.

 

“It wasn’t fair to us Fitz, we had a right to know.” Bobbi spoke up, adding her voice to Mack and Simmons’. The realisation made Skye uncomfortable, at the moment only Fitz was standing up for her – she knew Coulson would have her back and hoped May would. Hearing her friends discussing her, take sides on her, hurt. She felt tears begin to well behind her eyes and her hand instinctively touched the burn mark on her arm where she had ICED herself.

 

“A right to know? What, is that the same way that Sif and the Kree had a right to know?” Fitz said sharply.

 

“I think this situation is a little bit different mate.” Hunter answered, coming to the defence of Bobbi out of instinct more than support. Of everyone Hunter seemed the least certain.

 

“No you would have done to her exactly what they wanted to.” Fitz retorted, struggling to keep his voice steady. Skye found herself pitying him, trying to defend her against everyone when he still couldn’t put together cogent sentences most of the time.

 

“You don’t know that!” Simmons spat out, voice risen. Fitz matched her beat for beat.

 

“Yes I do know that!” Fitz shouted with such surprising power you’d think he hadn’t been through everything he’d been through, “they would, you’d, you would handle her, Mack just said it.” He said, pointing to Mack. “Like Skye is something to be locked away in a cage somewhere. We should be protecting her!”

 

“No Fitz.” Mack growled, his voice low and threatening. A knot formed in Skye’s stomach. “We’re the ones that need protection _from_ her.”

 

There was silence. Mack was looking directly at her, one by one they all turned. Fitz gave her an at once sympathetic and at once pleading look, as though he was asking her to stay – to talk this out with everyone. She couldn’t stay though, if she had any doubts about how necessary it would be that she live on the BUS she didn’t have them now – Fitz had summed it up, she would be locked up. She stared at each person, taking in their expressions. Of all of them Hunter looked the most regretful, for the second time Skye found herself surprised that he might prove an ally, the rest of them looked upset that she had overheard the argument, but defiant nonetheless.

 

The collective weight of their scrutiny was too much, even with Fitz there she felt that now familiar trembling building up within her – the trembling she had felt in the Temple, in the quarantine chamber, the BUS, the hospital and when she had been outed as an _abomination._ She turned away from them and started walking towards the hangar before it got too great, before she caused another quake. She heard Fitz call out after her but didn’t stop, instead continuing briskly walking away and unlocking the door at the end of corridor before making her way to the BUS. She climbed the stairs in tears as she remembered the last time she’d made the climb, full of excitement. She lingered as she looked in at her old room, noticing the photo of the team with the cracks running across the glass. She almost smiled at how aptly it represented the divisions within the group before she let her feet trace their way to the holding cell, to her _cage._

She threw her bag on the bed and shut the door behind her, sitting against the wall and sobbing, screwing her fists into balls at her prison. She blinked through her tears as she looked to the cameras in the ceiling, to the little red light that would watch her day and night to make sure she didn’t hurt anyone else. She saw ripples forming in the glass of water on the central table and reached for the ICER she’d brought with her, preparing to sedate herself if she couldn’t bring the tremors back into control. She was just about to pull the trigger when she heard a clicking sound and the little red light in the corner switched off. The latch to the door swung open and Fitz rushed in out of breath, closing the door behind him.

 

“Don’t!” He panted, out of breath as Skye held the ICER against her thigh, “It’s one of Jemma’s new ones, you don’t want that in you.” He held out an injector with a brown tube filled with clear liquid attached at one end and a needle at the other. “Morphine,” he explained, “It’s safer than dendrotoxin, and quite a bit more enjoyable.” He broke out in a grin and, despite everything, she smiled back – the ripples in the water stopped.

 

“What are you doing here Fitz?” She asked him, feeling exhausted even though she hadn’t used the injector.

 

“I told you, we’ll figure this out.” He answered, smiling a pained grin. Sitting next to her and putting a hand on her thigh.

 

“What about Simmons?” Skye asked, immediately regretting asking as Fitz grimaced.

 

“I’ll handle her.” He said unconvincingly, it didn’t take an agent to figure out that whatever was going on between them would not be readily solved.

 

“I’m sorry Fitz.” She said, losing her composure and breaking down into tears, throwing her hands around him like she had in the quarantine chamber.

 

“It’s alright.” He repeated softly into her ear, pressing kisses against her cheek. “It’s going to be alright, Skye, just you see.”

 

She kissed him back, tentatively at first before picking up the pace, once again drawing joy from the union of their lips. She sighed softly as he ran his hand up her side and cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her shirt.

 

“What about the others?” Skye asked, breaking the kiss reluctantly.

 

“Don’t you think they could use shaking out of whatever’s got into them?” He answered with a mischievous grin and loving eyes.

 

She giggled in spite of herself, in spite of the awfulness of the situation and resumed the kiss, parting her mouth to let in his tongue and running her hands through his hair. As he pulled her closer to him she felt that familiar heat building inside her and couldn’t help but be happy as, at the back of her mind, she remembered that _Fitz chose her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that :) The support for this has been awesome, thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos. While I had originally intended this just to be a two part fic I am considering adding a third chapter (with more lemon and a full Skitz scene :P ) Will largely depend on the response to this chapter and the next episode, what do you guys think? :)


	3. Fitz's choice (2)

_Skye’s safe Agent Fitz, that’s all you need to know._

 

The words burned hot in Fitz’s ears as his fingers traced their familiar way across the keyboard at the LAB console. It wasn’t that Coulson was withholding information again, after all – this _was_ SHIELD, and Coulson had explicitly told Fitz not that long ago that he was keeping things from him and would continue to do so. The thing Fitz couldn’t shake was that Coulson hadn’t given him a chance to say goodbye before he moved Skye, after all their relationship, or whatever it was they were in at this point, was hardly a secret - even Jemma knew of it. Coulson had forbidden Skye and Fitz from being near each other after they nearly destroyed the BUS when kissing. Fitz agreed only when it became clear her powers were hurting her and even then he still visited her several times a day – whenever he could really - sitting across the room from her and chatting away into the small hours of the night.

 

_Agent Fitz._

Fitz had almost punched him when he said that – after everything they had been through to be called agent so condescendingly left the young scientist seething like some kind of scolded child. He was owed more than that – Fitz had saved Jemma, saved the BUS and stopped the Kree warrior where Coulson, Morse and all the others combined had failed. Weakened or not by hypoxia Fitz had come to see his value, he _knew_ what he was capable of – and Coulson should have known better than to treat him so callously. Without Skye Fitz had never felt more alone: Jemma would hardly look at him – not that he minded particularly and even though he did miss how things used to be between them, she wasn’t the same anymore. He couldn’t even turn to Mack, he’d left the Playground to look after Hunter after his relationship with the Mockingbird appeared to have ended abruptly and explosives, with Coulson acting coldly and the Koenigs seemingly gone, the facility had never been so empty.

 

His eyes flicked through the lines of code in front of him, the tips of his fingers deftly brushing against the keyboard. He found himself grinning slightly; his coordination had come a long way since he’d first woken up from the coma – he was almost as good as he used to be, _almost._ As if by design the files decrypted just as he thought that, giving him access to the GPS data from Simmons and Skye’s video calls. Coulson hadn’t let Fitz speak to her yet, he’d said that Jemma needed to talk her through whatever invention she’d made for her – neither of them wanted Fitz to see despite the fact that engineering was his field, not hers. As he trawled through the digits in front of him he wondered how Simmons would react to being told he had designed something to do with biochem and she couldn’t look at it. The way they were speaking about Skye unsettled him, it was more in line with the way one would speak about an experiment rather than a person, let alone such a key member of their team. He had called Jemma out on it – he wanted her to know how disappointed he was, what she was doing was wrong.

 

Fitz looked at the stored satellite imagery on the GPS coordinates in confusion – there was nothing there: granted it wasn’t unusual for SHIELD bases to be underground but normally there were some structural signs present. He frowned, brow furrowed, as he kept searching through the images, trying to work out what exactly he was looking at and for – as far as he could tell the coordinates gave just a small lake in the middle of a mountainous region inaccessible by road and inconsequential in appearance. He absentmindedly ground his teeth together in frustration, switching to thermal imaging instead to make sure he wasn’t missing anything obvious. The effect was instantaneous – a hot circular ring around the lake revealed some kind of electric fence, only significantly more powerful than you’d expect, and in the centre a dark rectangle had appeared that wasn’t visible in the other pictures. Curiously rather than be a centre for heat, indicating some kind of residence, it was cold – too cold.

 

“Fitz.” Simmons’ voice cut into his thoughts. He hastily cleared the images from the screen to look at her; she stood shyly in the corner in the lab.

 

“What d’you want, Jem?” He asked a little sharper than he’d meant to – though admittedly, he hadn’t meant to ask entirely politely either.

 

“To let you speak with Skye,” she said quickly and nervously, barely pausing to breathe before she continued in a more scientific manner, “I think would help stabilise her.”

 

Whatever Fitz had expected her to say, it wasn’t that.

 

“Why?” He asked, it was the only thing he could think to say.

 

She tilted her head to one side slightly and a pained expression passed over her face as she worked out what she wanted to say, “I don’t want things to be like this between us, always fighting all the time – this isn’t _us,_ Fitz.” Her voice almost broke as she said the word _us,_ briefly revealing the great depth of the as yet undiscussed emotion between them that lingered in the wake of his giving her the oxygen.

 

“Jemma-“ Fitz said, it was the only thing he could think to say. After a brief awkward silence he found himself thankful that she continued speaking, he really wasn’t sure how to follow up her name. He wasn’t sure how to react at all, she had been so different recently it had really shaken him.

 

“Look I know we disagree but please, you have to believe I really do want the best for Skye, Fitz.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I can’t take you looking at me like I’m some kind of monster, I just can’t – you have to believe I wouldn’t do anything to harm her, ever.” When Fitz stared at her unresponsive she hastily added, “I promise.”

 

Fitz was silent as Jemma shifted uncomfortably on her feet, waiting for him to say something. The rift between them had grown immeasurably in the wake of Skye’s transformation – he had himself said that he hardly recognised what Simmons was becoming and yet here, in front of him, he caught the first glimmers of the incredible young woman he had come to care about, that he had given his life to save. She looked at him pleadingly, willing him to talk, to acknowledge that he’d heard what she’d said – to give her some sign that he was prepared to bridge the gap between them. He couldn’t have known how unstable she felt without him at her side, as though a part of her own self was missing with him hating her. If she hadn’t have been so nervously rooted to the spot she would have run out of the lab as far away as her legs could carry her, she was equally desperate to see their _friendship –_ or whatever exactly it was they were –reinstated as she was desperate to stop the division between them getting worse.

 

After what felt like an eternity to her he finally nodded and said quietly, “Does Coulson know?” When she tentatively shook her head he smiled at her, albeit weakly, and added, “Thank you Jemma.”

 

Face flooding with relief she burst into a broad smile herself and half laughed, “Everything’s set up for you on the BUS – you can call her from the main console or from the bunks, it’s your choice.” A stray tear rolled down her cheek, framing her grin – Fitz knew how hard it must have been for her to say everything like that, she normally tried to avoid emotions.

 

He nodded and left the LAB almost immediately, his feet practically dragging him down the dimly lit corridors towards the main hangar. Mack smiled as he passed, evidently trying to move on from the argument. Fitz like Mack, he really did, and if he told the truth he had already forgiven the mechanic – after all, of everyone in the Playground he had the most reason to fear alien biology – but their reconciliation was a conversation that would have to wait at least until after he’d spoken to Skye. Fitz hurried by the huge man who, despite recent events, was probably his closest friend – he detected a slight hint of sadness on the mechanic’s face as Fitz didn’t return his smile. _Simmons, Mack, Bobbi, Hunter…_ Fitz found it incredible how unreasonable reasonable people could become in the wrong circumstances.

 

The metal floor rang out as the soles of his shoes struck the cargo ramp and then staircase of the BUS, hand gliding up the bannister as he headed up to the main console. Sure enough a secure connection had been established with somewhere codenamed The Retreat at the coordinates he had himself secured not ten minutes earlier. He made a mental note to look it up later before pressing the button to video call Skye, his fingers ghosting over it for just a moment as he thought about what to say. When he at last tapped the button his own video feed came up on screen showing him how messy and red in the face he looked, he cursed and made a last ditch effort to control some of his curly hair and tuck in his shirt before Skye answered, her image filling the whole console in front of him.

 

“Fitz?” She asked, equal parts surprise and joy to see him in front of her.

 

“Yeah, erm, it’s me.” Fitz said awkwardly, realising he hadn’t thought about what he was actually going to say to her.

 

“I can see that.” She said with a broad smile, he guessed she must have been beyond bored stuck there on her own.

 

“How, how have you–?” Fitz started, rubbing the palm of his hand against the back of his neck wishing he’d planned what to say before hitting the call button.

 

“Been?” Skye finished abruptly, seemingly eager to get through small talk as fast as possible, “Well, I’m alone in the middle of nowhere and as far as I know no takeaway chains offer deliver to an off the grid SHIELD safehouse, so I’ve been better.” She pouted slightly, presumably as a form of sarcasm, but it didn’t hide the obvious isolation she was feeling.

 

“I’m sorry.” Fitz tried to comfort her with the only thing he could think to say. “I really am.”

 

Skye tried to smile to reassure him but it didn’t reach her eyes and when she spoke her voice was low and unsteady, “I miss you.”

 

“I miss you too.” He answered, offering her an equally unconvincing smile back in return.

 

“You should come visit.” Skye said to him hopefully and, although Fitz wasn’t sure, it looked to him like she had been crying.

 

“I’d like that.” Fitz told her, trying not to commit to a promise he couldn’t deliver. He desperately wanted just to get on a Quinjet and fly straight out to her, to tell her everything was fine and to hold her to him.

 

“But…” She said slowly, waiting for him to say why he couldn’t. She tried to hide it but there was obvious disappointment in her tone.

 

“The first chance I get.” Fitz said and the answer, although indefinite, seemed to relax her slightly. In a bid to help her feel better he added quickly, “Promise.”

 

“I’ll look forward to it,” she grinned in a mischievous manner that made Fitz’s blood run hot. Her voice was full of promise.

 

Fitz was about to ask her what she was going to have for dinner when the feed cut out and Coulson came storming into the room, later Fitz would be slightly thankful that he had been stopped from asking such a lame question but in that moment fury swept through him at Coulson’s persistent attempt to keep him apart from Skye.

 

“I told you that Skye was safe Fitz, and that was all you needed to know.” Coulson said authoritatively, there was clear irritation in his voice.

 

“Safe?” Fitz asked, letting out a spiteful chuckle, “You don’t mean _she’s_ safe, you mean we are. She needs, she needs…” Coulson furrowed his brow, surprised that the young scientist was speaking against him. “She needs us to be there for her, and you’ve locked her away like an animal!” Fitz’s anger crept into his every word.

 

“She’s there for _her_ good.” Coulson said in an attempt to calm Fitz down, Coulson had never seen the young scientist quite so worked up before, not even after his diagnosis with hypoxia.

 

“Take me to her.” Fitz ordered him with a strength that surprised Coulson, he had seen many sides to Fitz over the years but he was seldom this upfront or this agitated.

 

“Her location is classified, _Agent Fitz_.” Coulson answered, reminding him of his rank and trying to work out how best to handle him.

 

Fitz stood still for a moment, his hands closed automatically into fists as the man that he had in the past so admired kept him from Skye. It crossed his mind briefly that perhaps the anger Skye’s father felt wasn’t so misplaced: after Coulson had whisked her away from himself and hidden her. Nonetheless he knew anger would get him nowhere and, tentatively relaxing his fists, he switched tact. “Director Coulson, I’m taking paid leave effective immediately.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Coulson answered, his voice betraying his surprise. Fitz smiled realising he had caught the man off guard.

 

“My paid leave; time away from the mission, _sir_.” Fitz explained in a slightly patronising manner to an immediately frowning Coulson.

 

“I know what paid leave is but–” The director began but before he could finish Fitz cut across him, speaking quickly.

 

“Then you won’t mind if I take mine.” Fitz allowed himself a moment of pride; he had never taken any of his allocated paid leave, not since he was at the academy. He knew he had enough stacked up to take the better part of half a year’s leave if he so wished, Jemma was equally sparing with hers and he had always hoped they would travel the world together for a few months sometime – that was before anyway. At this point he doubted he’d ever actually use the time up if not for this.

 

“And what will you do, with the leave?” Coulson asked him, observing him shrewdly.

 

“I’m going to see Skye.” Fitz answered honestly, it made little sense lying to the director, Coulson would have seen through any falsities in seconds.

 

“That’s not possible at this time.” Coulson stated, he kept his irritation in check but Fitz could tell it was definitely there. The director was not used to having his decisions questioned so directly.

 

“The only way I won’t see her is if you throw me in the cell downstairs, _sir_.” Fitz delivered his ultimatum with another swell of pride, grateful that he had been able to find all the words. He needed to look powerful to Coulson or this wouldn’t work

 

“Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.” Coulson warned him, “How exactly do you plan to find her?”

 

“I already know where she is,” he said and a flicker of concern ran visibly over Coulson who shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Coulson asked directly, evidently confused as to why the young scientist seemed to be deliberately goading him by announcing his intention to disobey orders.

 

“I want you to, to… to lend me the Quinjet.” Fitz answered for the first time slightly sheepishly. Coulson had to stop himself bursting out laughing before Fitz added, “I’m going whether you help me or not, it’s just… well, I’d rather not walk what with HYDRA, and… everything.” He trailed off but brought himself back and straightened up, “But I _am_ going sir.”

 

“I can’t talk you out of this, can I?” Coulson said, a look of resignation passing over him. In many ways Fitz was what Coulson had made him – over the last year with SHIELD and HYDRA the young scientist had become one of his most indispensable assets and a good friend, he had come so far from the boy Coulson had picked out of the Academy.

 

“No sir.” Fitz answered with a quiet strength, the tension between the two of them cooled and Coulson, grimacing, turned around to leave.

 

“I’ll tell May you leave in an hour.” Coulson said as he reached the door by the steps that led down to the hangar,

 

“Thank you sir.” Fitz said genuinely, letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. His pulse was hammering in his chest as he walked his way to his bunk to pack a kitbag.

 

He had just finished folding a few of his shirts when he heard someone at the door behind him. He found himself immediately terrified Coulson had changed his mind and would throw him down in the cell under the Playground after all but to his great relief it was just Jemma standing in the frame, not that that brought him a great deal of joy with the way she had been acting – even after her attempt to patch things.

 

“Leo, can we talk?” She asked him, her voice small and surprisingly weak.

 

“Sure Jemma.” He answered unenthusiastically, turning away from her to continue packing his shirts.

 

“It’s just, we never really spoke about what you said to me at the bottom of the ocean.” She blurted out, biting her lip. The shirt he was folding slipped from his fingers and dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap.

 

“This… now, you want to talk about this now?” He asked caught by surprise and turning back to look at her more closely. She seemed nervous, scared and crestfallen all at once.

 

“No, we don’t… we don’t have to.” She answered him looking oddly put out as though he had just told her they’d run out of English Breakfast and she’d have to have Earl Grey.

 

“What’s this about Jemma?” He rounded on her, immediately regretting the accusational  tone with which he’d asked.

 

“It’s… It’s…” She struggled to find something to say, Fitz reflected glumly that based on how she was acting an observer might well be forgiven for thinking she had suffered from hypoxia, and not him. Her eyes dropped away from his gaze and she caught sight of the kitbag he was packing. “You’re leaving?” Simmons asked slightly panicked, her voice a mixture of surprise and poorly concealed concern.

 

“Yeah.” He answered calmly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable at the way she was looking at him.

 

“To see Skye?” Simmons asked, Fitz could tell something wasn’t quite right with her, she was acting out of character – her usual confidence and strength was gone replaced by what seemed like insecurity. For a brief moment she reminded him of the nervous girl he had met at the Academy all that time ago, she seemed a world apart from the Simmons who talked of plagues and extermination, the Simmons that had left him when he needed her most. The thought filled him with a sense of loss and longing, he found himself wishing they could go back to what they were before he changed, before Ward and before his life had turned into his own personal hell.

 

“What do you care?” Fitz snapped back, it wasn’t that he was angry at her really – he was just angry about the way everything had turned out. He wondered what would have happened if he had turned down Coulson’s offer, how differently things could have gone.

 

“Of course I care Leo.” Simmons shot back hurt, she had recoiled slightly at his words as though stung. “Of course I do.” She took a step forward and put her hand on his arm, he flinched at her touch, “You’re my friend Fitz, my best friend – in fact, _you’re more than that.”_

 

“Simmons?” He asked his face a horror as he understood her meaning. He stepped backwards and turned away, running his hands through his hair as he tried to process what she had told him. “But you, you left – you didn’t feel the same way and you left me.” His voice shook weakly as he came to terms with her confession.

 

“Fitz I only left because I thought I was stopping you from recovering, I didn’t want to go.” She said tilting her head sideways to try and catch his eye by he continued looking away from her. “It wasn’t until you, and Skye – that I realised, well I think I always knew… I always cared – it’s just, Leo, I lov-.”

 

“Jemma I loved you.” He blurted out and, cutting across her, not hearing what she was about to say. As tears pooled in his eyes and threatening to spill down his cheeks, she drew back in sudden realisation at the pain she was causing him, he continued, “I loved you for _years_. But you left, and then you came back _different…_ I finally started to move on and…” He lost his voice in the rush of emotion. His whole body seemed to tremble as he struggled to keep himself under control.

 

“I’m sorry Fitz, I am so sorry.” She said taking a step forward, wanting to hold him and comfort him but knowing that she couldn’t. “How can I make this right Fitz?” She asked him, she hadn’t expected this much hurt from him, she didn’t know what she had expected.

 

“Why didn’t you say something? Anything!” Fitz blurted out, pain tinged with anger and frustration. “You’ve been back for months and you waited until now?!”

 

Tears dripped from Simmons’ eyes as she shook her head, unable to hold her own composure or give him a decent answer. When he looked at her he was confused, angry, sad, scared and more at once. He hadn’t stopped loving Simmons, he had loved her too much and he just knew he hadn’t, but he had sealed away that part of him to protect himself. In a few sentences she had torn down his walls and opened a well of emotion he couldn’t hope to contain or make sense of, throwing himself down onto the bed he buried his head in his hands in an effort to dry his tears.

 

“Do you love her?” Simmons asked quietly, scared.

 

“I don’t know.” Fitz answered truthfully. He cared immensely for Skye, there was undeniable sexual chemistry between them and he felt a deep ingrained instinct to protect her and to be there for her – but she wasn’t Simmons.

 

Jemma hardly reacted to his words; she had clearly steeled herself for him to say yes but took no relief in his uncertainty. Swallowing dryly she asked, “How long will you be?”

 

Fitz looked away and sighed before shrugging and repeating, “I don’t know.”

 

Simmons walked over to him and sat down on his bed, putting her hand on his leg and looking directly at him. “You… and Skye… Are you? Have you?” She started tentatively before stopping; he suspected she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

 

He shook his head and then added in an attempt to break the tension, “You’d know if we had.” She half-laughed, the last time Skye and Fitz had made out the whole Playground had started shaking.

 

She squeezed his thigh and leant in towards him, “Whatever happens when you’re gone, wecan talk when you get back.” She said with faint fear and hope in her voice. Of course, Fitz and Simmons had had different boyfriends and girlfriends in the past; while neither of them were particularly experienced they weren’t virgins. It hurt Simmons more than she cared to admit to watch Fitz kissing Skye but she knew that the first step towards repairing their broken whatever-it-is-they-could-become would not be to ask him to deny his feelings for Skye, not after all the pain she had caused him – not after she had left him when he most needed her or after waiting so long to reveal her own feelings.

 

Standing up and walking to the door she took one last glance at Fitz, sitting on the bed confused, and found herself wishing she hadn’t said anything at all. She wondered if this was how he felt after he told her how he felt, only for her to completely ignore it and like nothing had changed between them when, in fact, everything had changed. Deep down she suspected she had loved him long before he gave her his oxygen, even if she refused to admit it to herself, but the very least she could give him was the choice. Grimacing, she knew whatever decision he reached, and however he got there, she would have to live with it.

 

“Simmons.” He said quietly when she got to the door.

 

“Fitz?” She answered, heart hammering in her chest and not knowing exactly how she should react to him.

 

“I… I need, time.” He stated meekly, his words barely travelling across the bunk. When he saw the look of disappointment she quickly tried to hide he added, “to think about things.”

 

Simmons gave the least convincing grin of her life as she tried to reassure him and said simply, “Take as long as you need Fitz.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everybody for their awesome support, the comments have been so lovely to read and I couldn't leave the story after so many people wrote such lovely things here and on FF. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, I apologise once again for the lack of full smut but instead we got some unresolved angsty emotional conflict - I hope that's not too disappointing for you all :) Let me know if you want me to keep going with this story, how you feel about the latest developments and what you'd like to see (read) in the next chapter :) J.


	4. Chapter 4

The Retreat:

 

Skye had explored every square inch of the cabin several times over in an effort to free her from her boredom but found next to nothing of interest. The wooden panelling on the walls and the fake stone around the fireplace did very little conceal that this was a SHIELD asset base of some sort, though given the time that had been spent at least attempting to make it feel homely she suspected this was somewhere special. If she hadn’t have found her time there so far quite so dull she might even have enjoyed the cosy setup but neither the crackling flames nor the soft rustic hues of the cabin could give her an escape from the unutterable loneliness she felt there. What little contact she had had with the Playground had largely been awkward – Coulson had tried to handle her like he had the SHIELD guide in his hand, Simmons seemed both terrified of her and terrified of saying the wrong thing to her, and Fitz, who Skye missed perhaps most of all, had barely been on the line for more than a minute before the feed cut out. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

 

She had attempted a great number of things to try keep herself busy from playing seemingly countless, unending games of Solitaire to trying to read some of the books lying around – most of which were about gamma radiation and just made her sleepy. When she had actually made an effort to understand one of them she had got so frustrated the floor shook and two glasses fell off of the kitchen side. She had found herself thinking about Fitz while she cleared up the broken shards and about how he’d held her in the isolation chamber; how he’d told her it was alright. A deep pang of sadness crept up within her at the thought of him, she wondered how he’d found out Coulson had moved her, how he had taken the news. She desperately wished she could have said a proper goodbye but everything had moved so fast before Coulson had her on the plane. She could only console herself with the knowledge that Fitz had promised to come see her as soon as he could – whatever her and Fitz had become after the transformation, it would still be nice just to have him with her as a friend for company. She felt a slightly hollow sensation in her as her stomach lurched to one side and she tried to push her hopes that they might be more than just friends to the back of her mind.

 

Her only solace was Coulson had fully stocked the fridge, leaving several bottles of wine behind. Although she typically didn’t drink that much – or at least, not since May became her supervising officer and insisted on her having a clear mind all the time – she had made her way through half a bottle when she heard the sound of an identification card being approved and the main door unlocking. Neither Coulson nor May were due to visit her and, as excited as the thought of having company was, not knowing who was out there made her nervous. Instinctively reaching for an ICER that was not there she cursed her suspension and made straight for the kitchen to grab a knife, or rather – she would have made straight for the kitchen had she not been drinking. While the unintentional zig zag pattern she made would probably have made her a difficult target to even a well-trained marksman with an automatic weapon, she couldn’t keep her balance and tripped up, cursing as she hit her head on one of the cupboards and landed unceremoniously on the floor.

 

“Skye!” She heard a familiar Scottish voice calling from somewhere behind her. She turned to face the source of the voice confused, her mind buzzing from both the alcohol and her fall.

 

“Fitz?” She asked, dazed as he dropped his kit bag at the door and rushed to her, running his hand through her hair and checking the fall wasn’t serious before standing up to wet a tea towel in the sink. Skye’s vision was blurred and she couldn’t really make out what he was saying, she only knew that she missed the feel of his hand against her face once it was gone.

 

Sitting back down opposite her he pressed the now cold tea towel against her head, himself wincing with regret as she flinched under the pressure. His hand shook uncomfortably as he gently dabbed her hair with the cloth, prompting him to take her hand with his free one and guide it to replace his trembling fingers. Heat jumped between them at the touch. When he was sure she could hold the tea towel on her own he let go and leaned back against one of the other cabinets so he was facing her. After a few moments he appeared to smell the alcohol from her breath, “Skye, have you been drinking?”

 

Feeling scolded like a child caught with her hand in the biscuit tin she frowned at him – instantly regretting the decision because it sent a new wave of pain across her forehead. She cursed and shakily rose to her feet a little too quickly waving out a hand towards Fitz and saying, “I’m fine, seriously.”

 

Before she could react Fitz was standing ready to hold her in case she fell and, as she swayed backwards slightly, she felt his hands ghosting on her back. Part of her wanted to just drop into his arms but the young scientist had always been particularly clumsy even before his hypoxia and so she decided against it, making her way towards the sofas instead. When Fitz was certain she could walk without his supervision he backed away a bit, though lingered just close enough to stop her if she fell and, when it became clear to him that she was headed back to the sofa, he mumbled, “That’s not a bad idea.”

 

She grinned slightly as she closed her eyes and threw herself onto the cushions, feeling temporarily weightless before she sank into the sofa and the blood and wine rushed to her head. Rather worryingly the Cabin shook as she landed; although she found it hysterical in her tipsy state, Fitz seemed panicked. “Skye?” He asked quietly, and when she opened her bleary eyes he swam into focus looking visibly anxious.

 

“What are you even doing here?” She asked, not intending to sound so harsh and feeling slightly guilty as Fitz furrowed his brow, dejected. She hastily added, albeit in a slurred manner, “I’m glad you are here… but – well, why are you here?” She finished rather awkwardly. She made a mental note that she needed to build up her tolerance to alcohol again, she’d never be able to do undercover work is just a few (admittedly large) glasses of wine brought her to this state.

 

“I promised.” Fitz answered, standing somewhat uncomfortably in front of her. She felt suddenly very sorry; whatever he had been expecting it clearly wasn’t this. She found herself wondering what exactly he had been expecting.

 

“I’m sorry Fitz.” She said honestly, pulling herself into a seated position and holding onto a cushion with one hand for support while running her other hand through her hair as though it would help clear her head. Almost instinctively Fitz stepped out into the kitchen and, after fumbling through the cupboards for a couple of moments, brought back a glass of water. She downed it in one go before putting it onto a nearby coffee table rather too forcefully before smiling at Fitz, “This probably isn’t what you were hoping for.”

 

To her surprise Fitz gave a slight smile and picked up the bottle of wine she had opened, as he swirled it around it became clear she had drank much more than half of it. Throwing himself back into a sofa positioned opposite to hers and bathed in the light of the fire he chuckled, “Maybe it is,” and took a big swig from the wine. His face froze up for a moment as he held the sharp taste in his mouth before he swallowed it and then coughed slightly, adding, “Besides I’m Scottish – I’d no sooner see a drink go to waste than I would let you drink alone.” He took another mouthful of it.

 

“Agent Fitz, aren’t you _officially_ still on duty?” She asked mockingly; Coulson never liked agents to drink much around the Playground. It wasn’t forbidden – in the evenings they would regularly have a couple of beers together – but getting tipsy was frowned upon, something Hunter would complain about constantly.

 

“Nope.” He smiled before raising the bottle in the air, “I’m _officially_ on holiday,” he laughed before correcting himself slightly, “well paid leave actually.”

 

“ _You_ , took paid leave?” Skye said surprised, neither Fitz nor Simmons nor anyone except Hunter ever really took time away from SHIELD; truthfully Skye couldn’t remember the last time she had taken any of hers. They’d been kept so busy since the rise of HYDRA she hadn’t even thought about it. “Is that even still a thing?”

 

“Guess so,” Fitz answered looking altogether too pleased with himself.

 

Grinning back Skye suddenly wondered how exactly he got here – if he’d flown May would be with him but it was just him that had come in. “How did you get here?” She asked Fitz, a hint of her more sober self returning as she did.

 

“Agent May.” He said and then offered by way of explanation when Skye’s eyes went to the door, “She said she’d drop in tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?” Skye asked him, curious as to why May wouldn’t come in now.

 

“When she picks me up.” Fitz answered, realising he hadn’t actually asked if he could sleep at the cabin overnight and, when Skye didn’t answer, he suddenly looked panicked, “I’m sorry – I just assumed I could stay-”

 

“Stay?” Skye said, blinking twice as she fought against her mind dulled by the wine, “Yeah of course, sorry.” She shook herself slightly as if hoping it would restore her to sobriety, “Why didn’t she come in?” Skye asked, already realising she wasn’t nearly as interested in what his answer was as to what else Fitz had _just assumed_ would happen. A heat rose within her.

 

Fitz shrugged, oblivious, and said simply, “maybe she thought you’d seen enough of her.”

 

Skye answered him with a snort, laughing in a distinctly unladylike fashion – she didn’t know how she could have seen enough of anyone while stuck in the cabin on her own. At this point she would have happily spoken to almost anyone if only for the conversation, _though not everyone_ , she thought remembering Ward and her father _._ What a world apart from them Fitz was;when she looked back over at him he was distracted, flicking through pages of the book on gamma radiation she had tried to read earlier. She found herself amazed at how well he had dealt with his hypoxia, with losing everything – his mind, Simmons. She had shot Ward multiple times in the chest and hadn’t come close to dealing with her own anger at the betrayal, it seemed miraculous to her Fitz hadn’t completely lost it. “I couldn’t get into it.” She joked, indicating to the book he had picked up and lightening the mood. He smiled back.

 

“Yeah me neither,” Fitz said, agreeing and putting it back on the coffee table, “more biochem than engineering – bet Jem would love it.” His smile faded; face darkening when he mentioned her name. Skye may have been drunk but she could still tell something was wrong – well FitzSimmons was broken, so something was _more_ wrong than usual.

 

“She’s just scared Fitz.” Skye said; she had no great love for the fiercely anti-alien approaches Simmons had been taking in recent weeks – being seemingly part alien herself, something she still couldn’t come to turns with – but she could see that Fitz and Simmons needed each other like checks and balances, a house divided couldn’t stand. Despite a too selfish part of her slightly happy at the rift between the two of them, Fitzsimmons were a core part of what made SHIELD, and anyone could see they both worked better and were happier when they were together.

 

“It’s not that.” He said quietly, the jovial expression he had had just moments earlier seemed to have long since faded away.

 

“No?” Skye asked softly, trying to prise out more information without coming across too directly. When Fitz said nothing she braced herself and asked, “What happened Fitz?”

 

Fitz noticeably suppressed a slight smile as his face screwed up into a confused expression, as though he couldn’t believe his own thoughts, “She said I was, we were… _more_.”

 

Skye felt her heart skip a beat and suddenly all the warm fuzziness from the wine slipped away. “That’s great Fitz,” She said with a forced smile trying to hide the crashing sense of disappointment that seemed to surge up within her – she hadn’t realised she cared this much. All the same, Fitz deserved every bit of happiness he could get and if being with Simmons made him so, then who was she to intervene? “That’s really great.”

 

“Is it?” Fitz asked, his eyes focussed and piercing her – concern and fear and something else shining from them all at once.

 

“I always said you two were psychically linked.” Skye said, not actually answering the question. Her throat had gone dry, she didn’t understand why she suddenly felt so alone even with him there – she didn’t understand _why exactly he was there and not with Simmons. “_ What did you say to her Fitz?” She asked, hoping he’d mistake the shaking of her voice for the wine not her anxiety. Even as she asked she noticed light ripples playing across what was left of the wine in the bottle Fitz had put back on the table.

 

“I said, I needed… time.” Fitz answered, reliving the moment in his mind.

 

“Time for what?” Skye asked, her voice hitched in her throat.

 

“To think.” He said simply. Fitz seemed to notice the ripples from the bottle and looked at her with that same mixture of concern and fear for her more than himself. His voice was soft when he spoke her name, a hint of confused longing in the word. “ _Skye_.”

 

Something changed within her, she stood up and walked towards him, by the time she had closed the gap between them tremors began to rock the cabin – books fell off the shelves, crockery smashed in the kitchen, the wine bottle rolled off the low table and into the corner of the room. She practically fell ontop of the still sitting Fitz, her legs straddling his waist as she pushed her forehead against his. His hands instinctively snaked their way up her legs and rested on the small of her back. Around them, the lights swung and flickered in their fittings, the fire coughed out a plume of embers like fireflies in the wind and all the while the young scientist held her. She felt the emotion that had been lingering under the surface for so long spill forward; the shaking intensified; the light bulbs shattered, furniture broke into pieces and the wooden panels fixed to the walls came loose, revealing the same metallic plating used on the BUS. As the chaos raged the legs that held up the sofa splintered and buckled, the wood collapsing under the strain of the quaking and the weight of both Fitz and Skye, throwing them to the floor. She fell forward on top of him and, driven more by instinct than thought, pressed her lips against his.

 

The kiss was electrifying, at the moment they touched a pulse rippled throughout the cabin, cracking the reinforced glass windows and denting the reinforced panelling. Debris gathered around the corners of the room while Fitz and Skye began waging a savage battle of mouths, teeth and tongue and lips mashed furiously together, their bodies _literally_ shaking at the contact. Skye pressed herself closer to him while Fitz drew her in, running his hands up her back and feeling her soften under his touch. As he raised one hand to the side of her head that she didn’t catch on the cabinet, the needy urgency of their kissing ebbed and was replaced with a slower but more methodical rhythm that allowed them to better explore each other’s mouths. By the time Fitz pulled herself away from the shaking had stopped. He brought them into a sitting position, her legs still wrapped around his thighs, and looked around at the now destroyed cabin. He laughed as his eyes rested on a broken television nearby, “I guess we’re not watching a film then.”

 

Skye punched him in the shoulder playfully though admittedly a little too hard – something he pointed out as he brought his hand away from her face to rub the spot she’d hit. Glancing around she knew in other circumstances the damage surrounding them would have terrified her – to some extent it still did, after all she had completely destroyed the cabin in less than a minute – but hearing Fitz make light of the situation made her feel surprisingly at ease. The cabin was now only lit by the fire. a couple of the kitchen lights that didn’t break and the dim blue-ish light from the overturned computer screen in the corner. In all directions pieces of broken wood and glass were strewn across the floor and yet atop the collapsed, and yet oddly comfortable, remains of the sofa the surrounding carnage seemed unimportant, though she was slightly nervous at what Coulson would say when he saw it.

 

Pushing that from her mind she brought her hands to Fitz’s face and ran her fingers up through his soft brown hair, leaning impatiently inwards for another kiss. Just before their lips met, though, they were interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone. She groaned from frustration and watched Fitz pull his mobile out of his pocket to check it. Realising it wasn’t him being rung he shrugged, before giving an amused smile as Skye crawled over to where her jacket was lying amongst the remains of the coat stand. Fishing her mobile out from her now dusty jacket pocket she saw it wasn’t hers either. She looked at Fitz confused for a moment before catching sight of the blueish glow in from the computer in the corner of the room. Sure enough the ringing was coming from somewhere underneath what was left of the desk the computer had been perched on.

 

She rose unsteadily to her feet and made her way over to it, trying to ignore just how much damage she’d caused. She’d got less than halfway there when she stubbed her toe on a pile of books she hadn’t noticed and cursed loudly, finding herself immediately supported by the up to that point dazed Fitz. Her shout of pain had snapped him back from reality and he let her lean on him as they hopped their way to the computer screen. When they got there she threw herself onto floor rather ungraciously while Fitz unburied the computer, brushing the dust off the cracked screen with his sleeve and setting up to look at them. The incoming call was from the Playground and, perching himself on a couple of books, he answered it, almost laughing as his and Skye’s webcam feed came up showing the obviously destroyed cabin behind them and the two of them faces flushed red and hair covered in dust. Immediately after hitting accept he regretted not waiting longer to prepare an explanation for Coulson.

 

But it wasn’t Coulson on the other line, it was a rather concerned looking Simmons. “Fitz!” She called out, her voice slightly distorted from the damaged speaker.

 

“Hi Jemma.” He replied in a very typically awkward and understated fashion, as though oblivious to the destruction that surrounded him. Her face went from relief that he was alright, to concern as she caught sight of what Skye had done to the cabin.

 

“Are you alright? The readings for the retreat – they were off the charts.” She said, checking a tablet computer in one hand. “I showed Coulson, they’re like nothing we’ve seen.”

 

“I’m fine Jem.” Fitz said to try and calm her down a bit. When she continued looking at her tablet and fretting he added louder, “Simmons.”

 

Realising he was not going to explain anything further, though still noticeably unconvinced that he was entirely alright, she awkwardly capitulated. “Oh, right… I see. Great.”

 

“I’m fine too,” Skye said awkwardly, waving her hand to Jemma who seemed not to have noticed her up to this point.

 

“Skye, I’m sorry – yes, I meant to check, ask...” Simmons began in a flustered and slightly bothered manner. She looked like a rabbit frozen in headlights as everything she said seemed to make her feel worse.

 

“It’s cool seriously,” Skye added with a smile to reassure her, “we’re good.”

 

Simmons let out a sigh of relief and for a split second everything was quiet, that was before Coulson burst into the Lab behind her anyway. He ran up to the screen looking panicked and then confused as he took in the sight of Fitz and Skye sitting on the floor in the wreckage of the cabin. “What happened?” He asked, though it was clear he knew exactly what had gone on. Fitz guessed Simmons too had probably guessed they had been making out – not least of all because of their messy hair and flushed faces but also because the last time they had been together in the Playground they had almost destroyed the BUS. Considering Simmons’ feelings for Fitz, Skye noted she was keeping her composure quite well and felt guilty. When neither Fitz nor Skye said anything Coulson frowned and asked a different question, “Are you both alright?”

 

“We’re fine sir.” Skye and Fitz answered almost in unison. It was clear Coulson was already regretting his decision to let Fitz visit her.

 

Coulson sighed at least partly relieved before squinting to assess the damage as best as he could from his side of the computer, “Well Rodgers won’t be happy with what you’ve done to the place – he really liked it there.” Coulson sounded genuinely sad when he said that, his favouritism towards Captain America of all the Avengers was well known.

 

“We’ll fix it sir.” Skye offered, hoping that they wouldn’t actually have to repair the damage – she would have no idea where to start.

 

“No don’t worry, I’ll send a clean up crew with May in the morning, they’ve got quite good at putting it back together after Banner figured out his _issues_ there…” Coulson offered to their relief, saying the last part more for himself than them. The director seemed to snap back into reality, “In the meantime can you last the night as you are?”

 

Fitz nodded quietly in the hope that saying yes would let them end the ever growing awkward stares between himself and Jemma – his heart and mind were hammering as he tried to handle what was happening around him. He knew in his heart that he loved Jemma Simmons in a way that he doubted he would ever love anyone else, and yet he felt closer to Skye more than just physically. When he looked towards Jemma he felt a deep rooted sense of longing but also terror – a fear that she would leave him again or decide that he was not up to her standards after the hypoxia. Yet with Skye, there was neither fear nor worry that she wouldn’t accept him for who he was now, but still – his feelings for her weren’t as strong. Them not being as strong wasn’t anything to do with Skye herself; he cared for Skye an enormous amount – more than he thought possible to care for someone who wasn’t Simmons, in time he could even embrace those feelings as a love of sorts… but he had been at Simmons’ side for so long and they had been inseparable for years. The two of them had an enormous shared wealth of experience and interests that muddled his mind and made his head spin.

 

“Well I think I broke the bed but I’m sure we’ll be alright.” Skye joked in an attempt to break the tension, inadvertently increasing it as Simmons and Coulson clearly misconstrued what she had meant innocently.

 

“Well, try not to break anything else.” Coulson said slightly weakly in a vague attempt to bring the conversation to a close and to restore some semblance of order.

 

“We will sir.” Skye answered and the line went dead rather too quickly. She put her hand on Fitz’s and smiled at him in relief the call was over but, upon seeing him lost in thought it suddenly dawned on her how hard the conversation must have been for him and Simmons and how hard the situation for him must be in general. “It’ll be alright.” She said to try and console him before standing up and walking through all the debris searching for something.

 

After a few moments she returned and handed him what was left of the wine bottle, he smiled at her but she could see he was confused, scared and sad all at once. He held the bottle up to his eye and looked at how little was left in it before asking, “There is more isn’t there?” She nodded and stepped over the remains of the counter she had hit her head on to the now broken fridge to get another bottle.

 

. . .

 

The Playground:

 

When Simmons had sent him the readings from the Retreat Coulson had panicked, seeing the spike in tectonic activity and immediately told her to try and reach the in case they were hurt accidently. At the back of his mind he hoped Fitz would help calm Skye and keep her from getting to lonely – it was the only reason he had eventually relented and let him see her, but now he regretted the decision immediately, if anything Fitz had made her worse. By the time he sprinted down to the Lab to where Simmons had managed to get through to his youngest agents he was more relieved that they were both ok than annoyed they had destroyed Banner’s cabin – after all, that was what it had been designed for. He didn’t care for the damaged furniture – just the damage done to his team. He had seen the rifts forming between members of his team for some time now – after the incident in the ocean Fitz and Simmons were emotionally toxic, Skye had been isolated from the rest of the team, Bobbi and Mack were up to something and Hunter had mysteriously gone missing. He was beginning to wonder how they ever managed to achieve anything.

 

Coulson wasn’t prepared for what happened after he cut the line to the Retreat. Immediately after they hung up Simmons burst into tears, throwing her head into her hands and visibly trembling. When he put his hand on her shoulder to offer what little support he could she spun around in her chair and hugged him in the way a child would hug their parent. He could feel her tears wet the lapel of his suit and hesitantly returned the embrace, looking over to the doorway where May had walked in for some kind of support. May looked just as surprised as he was; Simmons had never shown emotion in this way before. After almost a minute of quietly sobbing the young scientist seemed to realise what she had done and collected herself, brushing the tears from her eyes, before she broke away from Coulson and made for the door – stopping only to mumble that she was sorry. May stepped out of the way for her as Simmons headed in the direction of her bunk; Coulson had no doubts that she would continue crying in private there. He looked to May who shrugged her shoulders; the Cavalry could most likely take out an entire HYDRA squad single handed but was often found lacking when it came to emotional issues.

 

Coulson furrowed his brow troubled and deeply concerned for the welfare of his team but turned his attention towards the more pressing issue of whatever Bobbi and Mack were up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, I'm sorry that yet another chapter saw the smut give way to angst and relationship feels again but I've been trying to get the nuances of both ships down and it didn't feel right to have Fitz just sleep with Skye after Simmons confessed her feelings last time - even though they almost got carried away. As ever thanks to everyone who read, kudos'd it and commented on the fic so far, it means the world to me and I'd love to know what you think about this installment :)


	5. Carnage

_The buzzing of the fluorescent lights was the first thing Fitz noticed as he woke up in the hospital bay at the Playground, followed immediately by a tightened grip around his hand._

 

“Just stay away from me!” Skye screamed at Fitz, her voice trembling as Fitz cursed, trying to stop the flow of blood from his hand with a damp tea towel.

 

“Yeah like that’s going to happen.” Fitz said unamused in a drunken Scottish lilt; the frustration in his voice was tinged with pain as he picked at the edge of piece of glass trapped under his skin. “At least it’s disinfected,” he joked, wincing as he managed to pull the shard out. He noted his hand would probably have hurt more had he not drank half the whisky bottle he had been holding before Skye’s powers shattered it.

 

“ _Fitz_!” Skye called out exasperated – half pleadingly, half angrily. She didn’t understand how he could remain so calm; even as she spoke the ground shuddered again.

 

“It’s alright Skye,” Fitz told her, in truth he was worried but he was also drunk. He suspected that if he tried to stand up the room would be shaking whether Skye had powers or not. “You’re alright.”

 

“Stop saying that!” Skye shouted at him, tears streaked down her face. “How is any of this alright Fitz?” She slammed a fist into the wall with such force that the last remaining light bulb in the room shattered, leaving them in darkness. It only took Fitz a moment to find a torch.

 

“You’ll get through this.” Fitz tried to assure her, rising shakily to his feet and swaying even though the tremors had stopped.

 

“How do we get through this?” She asked him timidly, the power that had flown from her just a moment ago seemed lost and her voice quivered noticeably.

 

“Together.” Fitz said as he took a step towards her, lost his balance and hit the ground roughly; landing against what was left of the kitchen counter. The torch in his good hand hit the floor with a clatter and rolled away, lighting the room in a dim and ghostly blue hue.

 

Skye rushed over to him to check he was fine before taking a look at his bloodied hand; she found that despite his being more inebriated than she’d ever seen him, he had actually done a good job cleaning up the cuts. “How can we get through this together when we can’t even _fucking_ kiss without bringing down the whole place or you getting hurt?” The pain and frustration she felt was exemplified by the fact she swore, she hardly ever swore.

 

“You’re getting better.” Fitz offered optimistically, though she could tell he hoped it more than he believed it.

 

“Ah _Fitz_ ,” she said resignedly, pushing her forehead against his and running her hands through his messy brown hair. He moved his head to the side and placed a single kiss on her neck prompting her to sigh softly and rest her chin on his shoulder. Her eyes flicked around the room and she muttered, “How angry do you think Coulson will be when he sees what I’ve done?”

 

“On a scale of 1 to 10?” Fitz asked jokingly into her ear, sliding his uncut hand around the small of her back to bring her in closer. Her heart fluttered as she found herself straddling his waist not for the first time that evening.

 

“Why not?” She laughed, pulling herself back to look at the young scientist in front of and, she thought mischievously, underneath her.

 

“Somewhere around 12,” Fitz said as she planted a soft kiss on his lips, tasting the whisky, “but he won’t say anything.” She pressed another firmer kiss to him, taking comfort in the warmth that rose inside her as she did. As her tongue lightly sought his he pulled back lightheaded and asked her, “Maybe we shouldn’t?”

 

She frowned annoyed but she knew he was right; after the call with base it hadn’t taken the two of them long to start kissing. Fitz was still choked up about Simmons but wouldn’t say anything more about it to her, the first few kisses between them had been hesitant and he appeared distant but whether by alcohol or simply the familiarity that had built between them having spent the better part of a couple of weeks making out constantly back at the Playground things had sped up fast. She had straddled him and pushed him against the floor, letting her hair drop over him and rocking her hips forward against him. Even through their jeans she could feel the mounting heat where they joined, only a few layers of fabric between his arousal and her damp sex. It was then that the bottle of whiskey shattered in Fitz’s hand and they’d had to stop the bleeding.

 

She could feel the warmth rising from his crutch where she was sat above him again now and, against her better instincts, she pushed herself forward slightly before slipping off of his lap. He groaned slightly at the contact and she took in the way he screwed up his face slightly. As she pulled away gently he let out a deep breath and she felt her fingers ghost the outline of his organ in his trousers. The last few weeks each time they had gotten close to sleeping together her power had started and they’d been forced to stop – the two of them left lying there flustered and bothered. It occurred to her only as her hands squeezed the shape of his erect member through the denim that in her frustration she’d been so caught up with her own lack of fulfilment she hadn’t stopped to think how Fitz was feeling. – Fitz had been with her the whole time and never once complained about having to stop and cool down. Now that she thought about it, it surprised her quite honestly: in her admittedly relatively limited experiences with men, they were often more obsessed with their own pleasure and yet here they were with Fitz obviously as desperate for release as she was but choosing to remain quiet.

 

Her hand rose to the zipper of his jeans and drew it down, slipping her hand inside and wrapping her fingers around his dick through only the thin fabric of his boxers. His good hand instantly caught hers and held her wrist tightly and cautiously but she merely slid her grip down slightly and felt his hand relax, and then let go completely. Happy that her powers seemed content to let her continue she unbuttoned the buttons on his boxers and pulled his dick into the open realising it was the first time she had actually seen it despite how close they had got to having sex before. It was around average length she guessed – she didn’t really know to be honest – but thicker than she would have thought and as she softly gripped it and began to stroke up and down she enjoyed the satisfying curse she heard Fitz mutter under his breath. Suddenly all that mattered to her was his pleasure; she ran her thumb and finger around the head spreading Fitz’s precum in the way that she knew Miles used to enjoy before bringing her mouth to the tip and pressing a chaste kiss there.

 

“Fuck.” Fitz gasped as he watched Skye run her tongue teasingly over the head of his member. He made one last ditch to offer her a way out by meekly arguing, “we shouldn’t,” but she responded simply by slipping his whole head and some of his shaft into the warmth of her mouth and holding it there. Fitz wasn’t new to this but a mixture of the pain, the alcohol, the adrenaline of having sat through several earthquakes, his own emotional turmoil and the fact that it was his stunning friend _– or whatever they were now –_ Skye gently sucking him off threatened to send him over the edge almost immediately. Her tongue gently worked its way around his shaft before she withdrew and let his cock drop out of his mouth, a slight trail of saliva left in its wake. He instinctively bucked his hips towards her at the sudden loss.

 

“See, no shaking.” She said with a smile to counter his offer to stop, although noticing how his hips had tried to follow her mouth she knew she didn’t need to. Almost immediately she dropped her head lower and took him in her mouth again, savouring the taste and feel of his skin against hers. Using a hand to hold his shaft steady she slipped her lips up and down applying gentle suction and applying pressure with her tongue. Fitz groaned and tensed under her, running his uncut hand through her hair and bringing it behind her ear so he could better see her face as she tenderly took him in. The sight and feel of her bobbing up and down on his member was too much and he barely had time to grunt before it was too late and he came inside her mouth, filling her with his cum.

 

Skye had never much liked the taste of semen and generally refused to let guys finish in her mouth but she hadn’t expected him to finish so fast. That said, even in the moment she knew he was about to cum she found that for the first time she didn’t try to stop him, she was acutely curious what he would taste like. It occurred to her as she coughed on the surprisingly large volume of his load that they had essentially been edging each other on for a few weeks that he lasted as long as he did was impressive under the circumstances. Letting his dick drop from her mouth she lifted her head up to look at him, much of his seed still in her mouth though some of it now dribbling down her chin or pooling under the wilted head of his cock on his stomach. Seeing his concerned and apologetic expression – though obviously satisfied and exhausted too – she did something she had never done before and swallowed his load in her mouth. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, just strange and the sliminess of it made her stomach turn a little but the grin he gave her was enough to make her not regret the decision.

 

She wiped her face and crawled up to lie on top of him, letting his spent organ rest between her thighs. She tried to ignore the fire between her own legs and how tender her breasts felt against his chest even through their shirts and leant forwards to kiss his cheek – knowing he probably wouldn’t want to kiss her lips. He instinctively snaked an arm around her and whispered into her ear, his stubble grazing her slightly, “what about you?” His voice was full of unspoken promise.

 

She sighed, wishing beyond anything that they could just strip down and have sex but knowing that her powers would break loose the second they did, having already damaged the retreat possibly beyond repair and having cut Fitz’s hand quite badly she knew that her own pleasure would have to wait, “I’m alright.” She lied and lay her ear against his chest and listened to his slowing heartbeat. He laughed softly, “What’s funny?”

 

“I told you you’re alright.” He joked playfully, earning himself a slight push from her.

 

Even as hormones raged through her she melted into the embrace and had to admit that for as long as he was there, he was right. _We will make it through this together_ , she thought before adding in her mind slyly, _and when we do he’s going to make up what I just did for him._

By the time morning came the true scale of the destruction was clear – almost everything that wasn’t bolted down and most things that were had been smashed, shattered, splintered, shredded or damaged in some other way from Skye’s powers. The sun shone through the thick reinforced glass windows – one of the few things Skye hadn’t managed to break – across the wrecked interior of the retreat. Panicking she desperately tried to clear at least an area in the centre of the room before Coulson arrived and moved the blankets that Fitz had dragged from the broken bed the night before to cover them as they slept, safely wrapped in each other’s embrace. Brushing some of the broken lightbulb glass away with a broom Skye cursed loudly in exasperation, realising she was just moving the mess not clearing it and suddenly feeling remarkably childish.

 

Fitz meanwhile had gone to what was left of the kitchen sink, hand gripping his forehead, to pour himself a glass of water. It became clear as he got there that not only would he have to use a mug, since all the glasses were broken, he would need to search the fridge for bottled water as the quakes had destroyed the plumbing. Cursing as he found another bottle of wine in the fridge – something he was definitely not ready to even looking at – he pulled out a bottle of now warm water and took a long sip with some of the painkillers he always brought everywhere with him. As he sat down on a particularly large piece of rubble – what he thought was part of the large chimney above the oven – he sighed deeply and cupped his eyes with one hand to avoid the bright light outside.

 

“So are we going to talk about it?” Skye asked him after a few moments, throwing the broom to the floor frustrated at her inability to clean up the carnage she’d caused.

 

“Talk about what?” Fitz asked, obviously suffering from a sever hangover.

 

“Last night.” Skye said, walking over to crouch opposite him and placing a hand on his knee.

 

“Last night?” Fitz asked obliviously, but it only took a couple of moments for recognition and memory to flood across his face all at once. She saw a faint smile on his lips followed by a frown and a look of concern as he simply said, “Oh.”

 

“We should talk about it.” Skye said calmly, trying not to show the disappointment she felt at the fact he obviously regretted it, “About everything - you, me, us, _Simmons.”_

 

At the mention of Simmons’ name a shudder ran through Fitz and he looked away entirely, “I… don’t want to talk about it.” He answered more coldly than he meant to.

 

“Fitz.” Skye said, barely able to mask her irritation at him. For all intents and purposes they had been a couple for weeks – back at the Playground they were inseparable and if it wasn’t for her powers they would have sealed the deal some time ago: possibly that first day on the BUS. She reminded herself though that if it hadn’t been for her powers, they probably wouldn’t have got together in the first place – not because they didn’t get on with each other or because they didn’t find each other attractive, just because their chemistry came from shared desperation at the outside world and the comfort they found in having someone who understood what it was like to change. She closed her eyes and asked the question she most feared, “Do you love her?”

 

“Skye.” Fitz pleaded, desperate to evade giving the answer they both knew was true.

 

“It’s a simple question Fitz.” Skye said, hot tears brimming at her eyes. She hadn’t expected herself to get emotional but the thought that Fitz wouldn’t want to be with her stung her more than she expected – and the thought he’d rather be with Simmons despite everything Simmons had done to both him and her riled her more than she’d admit.

 

“It’s not simple Skye!” Fitz yelled in a surprising flash of anger. He rose to his feet and walked back into the remains of the lounge, “How is any of this _simple_? You, me? I mean look around us.” He gestured widely at the destruction Skye had caused. “You- you…” He stopped suddenly unwilling to keep talking.

 

“What Fitz?” Skye asked, she knew he was confused – she had seen it in him the night before and she knew that her getting him off wouldn’t change that, if anything it would heighten his confusion as he seemingly felt guilty now.

 

“Of course I love her.” He said louder than he meant to, “I mean, that stuff – it doesn’t just go away. I loved her for years Skye, and now…” He ran his hands through his hair and cursed loudly, kicking a piece of broken table leg into the corner, “But this isn’t about _her_.”

 

“What is this about?” Skye asked, shaken by his outburst and caught off guard.

 

“You never looked at me Skye,” Fitz eventually blurted out, “all the time we were on the BUS, all the time… _he_ was there – you never so much as looked at me.”

 

Fiery anger shot through Skye as she grasped his meaning, “And you looked at me? I’ve always played second fiddle to Simmons in your eyes Fitz. You couldn’t see past your own love for her to see me or anyone else, you still can’t.”

 

“I suppose you’d know all about seeing things clearly where love is concerned.” Fitz shot back bitterly.

 

“He fooled you too – or have you forgotten?” Skye growled at him, hurt.

 

Fitz flinched and bared his teeth in an uncharacteristically confrontational way, “Forgotten – how can I forget Skye? I wake up every morning and can’t think right anymore because of him, because of what the man you loved did to me.”

 

For a moment Skye glimpsed something beyond Fitz’s outward anger; she saw the young man she’d come to care for insecure and terrified behind his eyes. She was quiet for a moment, taking in the way he seemed to tremble and the soft tears that he threatened to spill, eventually she asked, “What are you afraid of Fitz? Why even mention _him_? What do you want me to say? I didn’t see it Fitz, he was right there in front of me and I didn’t see it, and I’m sorry. If I had none of this would have happened – but the Ward I loved was the same one you befriended – he never existed, he was a lie.”

 

They had barely mentioned Ward since Fitz woke up from the coma – the only time Ward and Fitz had laid eyes on each other again Fitz had nearly given him hypoxia and Skye’s last encounter with him had ended with her firing several bullets into his chest. Of everyone that Ward tricked, he tricked her hardest because she fell for him so hard. Even though Coulson told her not to, she blamed herself most for not seeing what Ward was and in her darkest moments blamed herself for Fitz and Simmons being jettisoned from the BUS – if she’d seen Ward sooner she could have stopped everything.

 

“He tricked us all.” Fitz said sheepishly, seemingly recanting from his earlier aggressiveness and trying to make up for his having lost his temper. The weight of the past bore down on them heavily.

 

“Forget about him, forget about Simmons; forget about everything but you and me.” Skye said calmly, matching his tone and closing the gap between them, “You and me Fitz… do you want to do this?” She bit her lip nervously as he made up his mind, feeling suddenly like a girl asking a boy for the first time if he wanted to hold her hand.

 

“You’re amazing, I care about you – I do.” Fitz bobbed his head slightly in thought, his face a pained expression, “But I need, I just need...” He threw out an arm as he tried to find the right word.

 

“What, what do you need Fitz?” Skye asked, nervous about his answer.

 

Fitz paused for a moment, frustrated he couldn’t say what he was thinking. It crossed Skye’s mind that this may not even have been the hypoxia; Fitz had never been particularly apt at discussing emotional matters before the trauma. After a few painfully long seconds he blurted out “Time!” far louder than he meant in his excitement to have found the word he was looking for. Realising how inappropriate it was for him to say it in such a way he corrected himself and spoke lower, “Time, I need erm… some time.”

 

“Oh.” Skye said simply, covering up her obvious hurt and nodding as though she wasn’t heartbroken. “Ok.” She pulled away and set about cleaning up again more as a way to distract herself than to prepare for Coulson. “Ok.” She said again, more for herself than him to help internalise the sting of their conversation. Fitz looked at her with a pained face; empathy and concern radiated from him in waves but for all his worry he was helpless to help.

 

She idly started clearing up again as a way of avoiding talking but, after an extended period of awkward silence, the atmosphere between them mellowed and they eventually went back to enjoying each other’s company even after their fight. The appointed time for Coulson to arrive came and went and as the morning moved into the afternoon Skye and Fitz began to feel worried. Try as they could they were unable to contact the Playground on the computer they had used the night before – which despite its cracked screen was otherwise still working – and couldn’t even get through to the phones of anyone on base. Reluctantly, Fitz even tried to call Simmons, knowing after what she’d confessed to him before he left she’d certainly answer if he rang. When there was no answer he felt a deeply uncomfortable knot form in his stomach.

 

Fitz set about preparing sandwiches for himself and Skye by the time the evening came and darkness descended around them. In the time Skye spent pacing up and down the middle of the cabin he managed to fix a number of the lights and sweep some of the worst of the debris to the walls before he tried to work out whether after a day of being kept in a broken fridge the cheese was safe to eat. He only managed to find one plate that wasn’t completely broken and, opting to give that one to Skye, chose to eat his from the largest shard he could find. It was as they sat eating his rather lacklustre creation of sandwiches and whatever snacks were lying about – which admittedly tasted wonderful to them both as they had spent the majority of the day without eating – that Skye’s phone rang.

 

Picking it up immediately Skye said, “May, what’s happening? We couldn’t connect to you guys.” While Fitz picked up Skye’s empty plate and considered whether it was worth washing it and stacking it given the kitchen and all associated crockery was destroyed, he heard Skye’s tone change to one of dark concern. “What? Why, what are you talking about?” She paused for a moment before continuing, “May stop. Wh-who is coming for us? May… May?” The lights Fitz had only just managed to repair went out and they were left in darkness.

 

“What happened, what did she say?” Fitz asked, fear in his voice.

 

“She said they’re coming.” Skye answered looking just as confused as Fitz was.

 

“Who?”

 

“SHIELD.” Skye breathed out in little more than a whisper.

 

As if on cue outside the plated glass windows Quinjet searchlights shone, scouring the ground below them for signs of Fitz and Skye.

 

“We have to go, come on.” Skye said, grabbing Fitz by the hand and dragging him to the door.

 

“You want to go outside? With all of them?” Fitz asked incredulous.

 

“You want to stay in here and get surrounded?” She shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as they stood by the door ready to leave. When he didn’t say anything back she smiled and asked “Ready?” Knowing it wasn’t a question he could say no to, Fitz nodded.

 

The run to the fence had been one frenzied frantic stab at freedom through fierce undergrowth and largely in pitch darkness. By the time they got to the control panel to switch off the lazers they were confronted by an agent – allegedly from SHIELD – which Skye swiftly dispatched and disarmed; though sadly not before he fired a shot off on his gun. It wasn’t long before the lights of other officers hunting them turned in their direction and as she made a mental map of her environment like May taught her, she noticed the forms of two differently dressed agents advancing towards them from either side of a large tree in the centre of a clearing. A closer look told her it was Bobbi on the left of the tree and a bald middle-aged man she hadn’t met on the right. Throwing down the gun she had just taken from the agent that she had just encountered she realised too late that the bald man had his gun pointed straight at her and could tell from his posture and expression that he intended to pull the trigger, which he did. The flash punctuated the darkness and shot rang loud in the clearing.

 

She froze as sheer unbridled panic gripped her limbs, holding her in place and rooting her to the ground. In front of her Fitz bore a dazed and confused expression; his face was pale and his whole body trembled. He had rushed out at the last moment and now stood in shock as he dipped the tip of his finger slowly into a darkened mark on his shirt, just above his stomach, flinching slightly when he returned it to his eyes now crimsoned and glistening red in the shining light of the moon. Behind him the bald agent she’d never seen before stepped sideways in an effort to get a clear shot at her, to his left Bobbi stood as stone still as Skye herself – the enormity of what had happened not having dawned on either of them fully. Fitz’s lip quivered lightly as fear and pain flooded through him, letting out a quiet whimper as his hot blood bubbled up through his shirt and fell down his body in small cascades. The sight made Skye sick as his eyes widened in alarm like an animal caught in a hunter’s trap… or more fittingly a Mockingbird’s trap…

 

The sound of a second gunshot ringing through the woodlands brought Skye’s senses crashing back into her surroundings. Blind instinct took over and faster than she thought possible her hands were high in front of her. Something in the ground beneath her shifted; vibrations coursed through her body in pulses and the metal bullet that the bald agent has sent straight for her ricocheted in another direction, seemingly bouncing off of the air. By the time Skye realised what was about to happen it was too late, the power that had just stopped the bald agent’s bullet lurched forward, lifting Bobbi, the bald man and most frighteningly Fitz off of their feet and propelling them backwards. As the trees around them bent or shattered even the dirt beneath their free broke free; in places bursting upwards forcefully sending a shower of stones and dirt while in other places rising slowly and churning forwards over itself, collapsing under its own weight.

 

In the centre of all the carnage Fitz, confused, scared, hurt, _loved_ , held his arms out uselessly clawing at the air for support that was no longer there. Tears stung her cheeks as she watched small fragments of stripped bark and raised stone leave cuts in Fitz’s exposed skin. When he finally hit the ground he collapsed motionless into a heap. The bald agent who had fired the shots was groaning, a large piece of tree sticking from his shoulder, and Bobbi still bore that same perplexed expression as though Skye’s manifested powers were somehow as inexplicable and incomprehensible as Fitz’s determined heroism had been just moments earlier. Fitz let out a sickly cough, blood bubbling in the back of his throat, and wretched on its metallic taste. Bobbi struggled to her feet and made towards Fitz, fear and shock etched on her face in equal measure as she did so.

 

Before Skye herself had time to close the gap between her and the young scientist, a vibrant blue light shone around her and she felt a hand grip her waist forcefully. She barely had time to react before the field in front of her, with Fitz, Bobbi and the bald agent lying prone less than a stone’s throw away, disappeared behind a veil of pure electricity. Her whole body shuddered and when the blinding light died down she was somewhere else, the very air felt different – heavy with a muggy heat but fresher. Mountains rose high over a series of forests and as she dropped to her knees to throw up from the travel she blearily tried to take in her surroundings and spun on her captor – a man with no eyes. Instantly regretting throwing away the gun she had had just moments earlier she screamed at the man; asking him who he was, where they were and most importantly to take her back to Fitz. The man looked on in silence.

 

_The buzzing of the fluorescent lights was the first thing Fitz noticed as he woke up in the hospital bay at the Playground, followed immediately by a tightened grip around his hand. As he blearily opened his eyes he saw the familiar face of Jemma Simmons swim into view. For a brief moment he couldn’t remember what had happened but as his gaze switched from Simmons to Bobbi, stood behind one of the glass windows looking in, he clenched his jaw and felt his muscles tighten, remembering. “Skye!” He called out, bolting upright so fast he tore the stitches on his chest, blood immediately springing from between them and making him light headed, the wave of pain staggering him to the point of sickness and sheer, unuttered exhaustion. As he quickly lost consciousness and heard Jemma screaming for the medics to sedate him so she could repair the damage, he thought on Skye. He remembered the destructive but incredible power of her ability, the terror on her face when she witnessed him being shot and the flash of blue around her before she had disappeared entirely. He mumbled her name again and again as the doctors brought him anaesthetic and set about fixing his wound._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :) Thank you all for the kudos and comments, I've had a great time reading through it and hope this chapter is up to standard. I would normally write a longer note but I'm exhausted and wanted to get this online before I went to bed.


	6. Author's Update

Dear all,

Sadly this is not an update for the final chapter of the story, it is just a message to say that I may be unable to update for an even longer time than I had thought. I am currently undergoing radiation therapy, hence the abrupt end to updates a couple of months ago. Whether you supported my move to put in a love triangle between Fitz/Skye and Fitz/Simmons or not I can at least give any readers of this story some small semblance of closure, with the hope that I will one day return to write it in full.

The story was to have two endings - one for Fitz/Simmons shippers and one for Fitz/Skye shippers, that way everybody would be happy and you could choose whichever one you wanted according to preferences. Both chapters were to open with Fitz recovering in the Playground and bonding with Simmons before leaving (at significant risk to himself) to find Skye and the Inhumans (having figured out how to track Gordon's movements courtesy of seeing it so close.) Armed with the knowledge that Simmons has apologised for not keeping her feelings a secret and encouraged him to be with Skye in her place, Fitz leaves and is immediately outcast when he arrives at the Inhuman base - treated like a SHIELD operative and not a person. Enough time passed during Fitz's recovery for many of the events of the second season to take place - including Skye's knowledge of her mother and budding friendship with Lincoln. Skye is hurt trying to protect Fitz when the Inhumans begin to advocate a more intrusive manner of interrogation and, just as in the show, things are exacerbated when Agent Gonzalis is murdered (in this AU he is there to petition for Fitz's release, Jemma is also there for him.) In Skye's fear for Fitz and a fight between the Inhumans and SHIELD (a much larger one than in the show) Skye loses control of herself and destroys a significant number of the buildings (in a Phoenix X3-esque manner.) 

Here the story would have divided: in the Fitz/Skye fic his kiss stabilised her and they leave the ruined Inhuman base behind, Skye's mother swears vengeance and the events of the S2 finale are left to stand as Fitz finally commits to Skye fully, saying he will always be there for her. In the Epilogue they finally have sex in the Playground and although they seem to shudder themselves, there is no damage to anybody else. Skye tells Fitz she has a reason to control her powers (him) and it's all a very soppy ending where Fitz and Skye get to do everything that they've wanted to do since Chapter 2. There was a brief dialogue between May and Coulson where they reveal they are surprised at the result of Fitz choosing Skye - Coulson owes May money, she had bet that Fitz/Skye would be together since she learned Fitz had been lying for her. The light hearted stuff aside, Jemma's position is not fully reconciled within this ending but it does imply a possible future. She treats a wounded Lincoln in the Playground with the implication that they might get together (both watching Skye and Fitz walk happily through the Playground and expressing despite their own sadness how happy it makes them to see Fitz and Skye so happy.) Bittersweet.

In the Fitz/Simmons ending Simmons is injured in the debris from Skye's loss of control and while Fitz does still calm Skye down, when she realises what she has done (the devastation she has caused) Skye refuses to come back with SHIELD or side with the Inhumans, taking Lincoln (who in this ending is perfectly healthy) to run away and ordering Fitz to go with Simmons. She clasps Lincoln's hand as if to prove their kind-of relationship is over and, while it breaks both of them to do it, they know it's for the best. On the way back Fitz tells Simmons (who is strapped into a medical trolley) he's not going anywhere, he'll always be there for her and - after one last glance at Skye - that he loves her. The ending with Fitz and Simmons does not contain sex but a long drawn out kiss between them that should have happened years before. In the epilogue for this ending we find out that the events of the S2 finale did take place (with the exception of the Simmons being pulled into stone scene) but that Skye chose afterwards to remain in hiding. They can't find her because of her hacking abilities but Fitz does discover a coded message saying that she is ok and that she'll always care for him - that she hopes he'll be happy and that she is happy with Lincoln. She says she will return to SHIELD but she just needs some time. Fitz looks over to Simmons and admits to himself he'll always care for Skye, but Simmons and him were always supposed to be.

And there you go, maybe one day I'll be able to write them up into full chapters but for now this is the best I can do, I have to throw everything I have at beating this illness and while I do have updates for other stories left in my computer (hence I may appear to update my other fics) I am stepping away from fic writing for a little while.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the story thus far, the reviews are always a pleasure to read - it would be interesting to find out if you would have enjoyed the alternate endings, I'd love to read what you have to say. Take care everyone, it's been an absolute thrill writing for you, I only wish I were strong enough now to finish this story the way I began it.

Faithfully,

AG

**Author's Note:**

> First of a two part fic - the second part will contain the explicit smut. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think in the comments :)


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